


Destiel Fanfic Season 15 Episode 7: Deal, No Deal

by CR Noble (erudite12), firefly124



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Destiel - Freeform, Destiel is endgame, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Season/Series 14, Slow Burn, season 14 compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-18 10:29:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19332739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erudite12/pseuds/CR%20Noble, https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefly124/pseuds/firefly124
Summary: Still stumped in their research attempts, Sam, Dean, and Cas take a case in Iowa that looks like someone's been collecting a bunch of demon deals.  Meanwhile, Sam and Rowena are working on finding a solution for Cas as well as the general end-of-the-multiverse. In other words, it's just another Thursday.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> From firefly124: Huge thanks to CRNoble for beta reading and love-nakamura for the amazing artwork, and to everyone who kept me going when I was ready to smack these idiots' heads together.
> 
> About Destiel Fanfic Season 15:
> 
> Welcome to the Destiel Fanfic Season 15 Project! This series will comprise of 20 episodes (as separate works under the DestielFanficSeason15 collection) posting every Thursday for the next 20 weeks during the hiatus between season 14 and 15. This project is a collaboration between a group of authors, artists and betas. Each week different authors and artists will take part, with various configuration of authors and artists working in teams for each episode.
> 
> The endnotes will be updated with a link to the next episode once it posts, and you can always see all works in the collection here. Please also consider joining us on tumblr at destielfanficseason16 and destielwritersroom.
> 
> Notes on the series: Destiel is endgame. While this fic is rated Teen, later fics in the series will be rated a lot higher, some Explicit. Please read the tags for individual episodes, although there are unlikely to be anything more graphic than canon-level violence.

 

THEN

“Cas…we’re worried you might have burned out for good. You could...could be human.”

He reached for his grace again, and let out an explosive breath of relief when he found it there, faintly, but it was like trying to grasp a candle flame.

“It’s there, it’s okay. It’s faint, but it’s there. It’ll take time for me to recover it, though.”

***

“Rowena–” Sam cleared his throat; his voice sounded so high. “Hey!”

“Samuel, you wanted me to call?” Sam could see her standing at her table, probably mixing some potion or doing some spellwork. If he closed his eyes and focused, he could hear the tinkling of glass vials against her nails.

Sam decided it was best to jump in feet first. It always was when it came to Rowena. “We’re working on a way to bring Jack back. We’re also trying to find a way to ice Ch–God.”

***

Dean watches a single tear run down Odie’s face as he takes a shuddering breath and focuses his eyes on him.

“Dean, I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did. In the grand scheme of things, is it really so bad to love another person? Even if they look a little bit like you? Don’t let your daddy dictate your life - especially if he ain’t around to see it. Love like that that survives time and distance and betrayal is a damn rare thing. You grab it by the horns and don’t let go, you hear me?”

***

“She told me about your deal with the Empty. Cas, what the hell, man!” Dean shouted, spreading his hands out in outrage.

Castiel turned pale and wide eyed as he processed the fact that his secret was out.

“You what?” Sam asked, shocked by the news. “Why would you do that?”

At first Castiel thought of apologizing about his decision, but soon realized that it was the right choice to save Jack, and he would do it again. Who were the Winchester’s to tell him not to make a deal with someone they didn’t trust?

“I did it for Jack. You would have done the same in my position.”

***

NOW

It had been over a week since the skinwalker case, and Sam had just about had it. Nothing they had in the bunker gave any information beyond what they already knew about the multiverse. Veils thinning bad. Thanks, they knew that. Nobody exactly had a recipe for building them back up, though. Not that that was stopping Sam from rereading everything he could get his hands on.

Cas was attempting to help, too. You’d think someone who (at least when he was powered up) was a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent would know a little more about all this, but if you thought that, you’d be wrong. Even a garrison commander only knew that it was important to avoid screwing with the veils between the various realms of the multiverse, not how to fix them. He had expressed more than once that he didn’t believe the Men of Letters (or anyone) would have any answers, but he was, at least, making an effort.

Even Rowena was out beating the bushes for info from her various Pagan contacts. Sam could wish she’d check in more often, but he was pretty sure she’d call if she learned anything about that. Or, for that matter, how to get Cas out of his deal.

Dean, though? Well, he was the real reason Sam was a thousand percent done. Since Cas was helping in the library, Dean was never anywhere near it. And Sam got it. He did. He’d been pissed at first, too, when he’d learned about Cas’ deal with the Empty. They’d all made so many fucked-up deals, that you’d think any of them might learn their lesson someday. That was the exact reason Sam had gotten over it though. He’d made stupid-ass deals, too. Hell, if he’d been offered the same deal to save Jack, he’d have done the exact same thing. Sam was pretty sure Dean would have too, the hypocrite.

With a sigh, he closed the latest book full of nothing helpful and pulled his laptop across the table. There were a number of alerts for potential cases. They were all pretty basic, and some of them might even be legitimate animal attacks. His first reaction was to reach for his phone. He pulled his hand back to his laptop with a wince and a gulp that did nothing to dismiss the wave of nausea that threatened to engulf him at remembering that most of the hunters he would have called were dead. Including his mom.

He jumped when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Cas looked up at him, curiosity plain in his eyes. Sam shrugged it off and answered the phone.

“You having any better luck than us?” he asked.

“Well, hello to you, too, Samuel,” Rowena said. “I’m doing quite well, thank you. And yourself?”

“Pretty sure I already answered that,” he retorted. “Does ‘quite well’ mean you’ve found something?”

“Alas, no,” she admitted. “Poor Agnes saw many things in her visions, but as it’s not precisely a curse that has caused the thinning of the veils, apparently she was spared this. At any rate, there is nothing relevant in the Book of the Damned.”

“Good for her,” Sam muttered. “Not so much for us.”

“Exactly.” She sighed. “I have explored… other avenues, as I told you I would, but to no avail. There are plenty who know the problem exists. None with particularly useful ideas of how to fix it. And before you ask, that includes my Druidic contacts. They observe and even make use of the natural cycles that affect how permeable the veils become, but they do not have the ability to control them.”

Sam had been afraid of that.

“I have a feeling we need to be looking more at the Greeks than the Druids, anyway,” he said.

“Aye, I thought as much. However, modern Greek Pagans are a motley crew. Half of them don’t believe in magic, and of the half that do, most seem to believe it’s not for human use,” she scoffed.

“And the rest?” Sam asked.

“I’ll continue trying to find someone who knows anything, but, Samuel,” she said, “we may be chasing information that just doesn’t exist.”

“Yeah.” He ended the call and looked back at his laptop. Maybe they should take one of these cases. They all looked pretty straightforward, and at least they could clear their heads.

“That conversation did not sound promising,” Cas said. “However, you appear to have decided upon something.”

“Just that we need to get out of here,” Sam replied. “Take a regular old case.”

“Are you sure?” Cas asked.

“We’re not going to get anywhere just reading the same stuff over and over.”

Cas looked unconvinced.

“There’s this case over in Iowa,” Sam said. “Less than a full day’s drive. Well, I think it’s a case.”

Cas stood and came around behind Sam to read over his shoulder.

“Sam,” he said, “I do not believe that these killings are necessarily ‘our kind of thing.’ They do not even appear as unusual as the one that turned out to be a skinwalker.”

“It could be,” Sam said. “Also, get this: one of the surviving family members has a Twitter rant about the whole thing being a coverup.”

“We’re using Twitter now?” Dean asked from the doorway. “Awesome. Might as well check there. Not like these Erote-things are exactly posting on Facebook.”

“And you know this because…” Sam said.

“Shut up.” Dean looked like he wanted to come look at what Sam had up on his screen, but he didn’t move from the doorway. You’d think the floor of the library was made of lava or something. “What’ve you got?”

“Multiple suspicious deaths being attributed to wild animals,” Sam said.

“And that has what to do with anything?”

“It could be a case,” Sam said. “Not like we’re exactly finding anything here.”

Dean appeared to mull that over, then turned and stalked away. Over his shoulder, he said, “Fine. Grab your crap. We hit the road in ten.”

Sam exchanged a look with Cas, who looked like he wasn’t sure he was meant to be included in that.

“That goes for you too,” Sam said as he closed his laptop and pushed back from the table.

“Sam, I’m not sure…”

“I am,” Sam cut in. “Dean’ll get over his shit, and we’ll figure out how to break your deal. Meanwhile, I’m pretty sure nothing about this case is going to suddenly make you super-happy, so there’s no reason to hang back.”

Cas pressed his lips into a tight line and just stared at Sam for a second, then nodded and headed for the garage.

Sam went to his room to grab his go bag, internally shaking his head at the two of them. He had the beginnings of an idea what to do about Cas’ deal, but like he’d said, it didn’t look like there was much risk of it coming due anytime soon. For now, they just needed to do something, anything, other than spinning their wheels here.


	2. Chapter 2

The Maquoketa police were weirded out enough that it didn’t take much for them to let Sam, Dean, and Cas in to the coroner’s office, even though she was off getting yet another body. They didn’t question why the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service was showing up unannounced to investigate. They just seemed grateful to let it be someone else’s problem.

“We’ve never seen anything like it,” Sergeant Rourke said. “Sure, we get our fair share of hikers getting lost in the park, running into trouble. Usually snakebites, and the park rangers generally don’t need our help to handle that stuff. But only two of these were in the park, and, well, you’ll see. The first couple, we thought maybe some drug dealer was sicking their Rottie on people, but now… Like I said, you’ll see.”

Looking at the corpses laid out in front of them in a macabre row of stainless steel examining tables, Sam had to agree. The bite marks and claw patterns didn’t fit bear, coyote, or even mountain lion, despite that being what was on all the death certificates. From the way Dean blanched at the sight of them, Sam knew his suspicion was probably right.

“So,” Cas said, “this does appear to be ‘our kind of thing,’ However, I do not know what we will be able to do about it.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. He was still staring transfixed at the mangled body before him. “Taking out one hound or even a pack won’t do anything. Doesn’t even really matter which demon they made the deal with.”

“It didn’t used to matter which demon,” Sam said. At least, as far as they knew it hadn’t mattered if you killed the demon that held the ticket for that deal. However,, he hadn’t managed to kill Lilith until after she’d collected Dean’s soul, so they’d never exactly tested that theory. All they had was Ruby’s word that it wouldn’t have made a difference, and that wasn’t worth much.

“Huh?” Dean looked as if Sam had just suggested cake was better than pie.

“Dean, nobody’s in charge in hell anymore. Not Lucifer. Not Crowley. Not anybody. There’s no ‘higher up’ to collect on the deal if the demon who made it is dead,” Sam said. At least, he hoped that was how it worked. He covered the last of the bodies back up and headed out of the morgue. If nothing else, they needed to dig out their old holy-oil-smoked glasses if there were hellhounds running around. Might even need to make a new set, too. Who knew if Cas’ grace had recovered enough to see invisible demon dogs?

“Sam, I know you pretty much gave that one pack of demons an ultimatum,” Cas said once they were back in the Impala, “but are you sure they haven’t named a new king anyway? I mean, they are demons.”

“You what?” Dean demanded, keeping his attention fixed on Sam.

Shit, yeah, he’d never told Dean about that. Sam winced. That was a conversation he wasn’t exactly looking forward to having.

“I mean, I guess,” Sam said. He ran his fingers through his hair. “But we haven’t heard anything like that, and going after the demon making the deals seems like the best place we have to start.”

Dean just glared at Sam, still pointedly not looking at Cas. Sam stared him down. They had nothing else to go on, so what, exactly, did Dean want them to do?

“I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but maybe we should, I dunno, do a little more research first?” Dean gave a melodramatic shudder. “Right now, we’ve got teeth marks and guesswork. Be nice to at least have a clue who’s next on the hit list.”

“Fair point,” Sam conceded with a sigh. If there was anybody left for this hellhound to collect around here, they should have had some kind of amazing luck ten years ago. “I’m pretty sure we passed the town library on the way here.”

Dean groaned and Sam bit back the urge to point out this had been his idea. Their best chance of figuring out who was next was to see who else might have made a deal and hope that deal made the local paper. And that the library had all that digitized. Even Sam wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of digging through stacks of dust-filled newspapers.

As Dean turned the key and the Impala roared to life, Sam stole a look at Cas in the back seat. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but when Sam caught his eye, the angel just shook his head. Just as stubborn as Dean.

This case was going to be loads of fun.


	3. Chapter 3

The problem Sam had anticipated having was that, since Maquoketa State Park was a vacation spot, the victims could be from all over the place. Turned out, even the ones who’d been killed in the park were locals. That made digging through ten year old town records and newspaper articles easier. 

Simon Reynolds had graduated high school ten years ago, top of his class. A little digging made it clear he’d been on that trajectory all along, though. No reason to make a deal for that, and even the scholarships he’d gotten for college were reasonable enough that they didn’t scream demon deal.

Melody Matthews had scored a decent lottery win, but not the sort any sane person would sell their soul for.

Amy Harris had literally nothing remarkable that year. Ditto for Jason and Veronica Pike, Lynette Rogers, and Tim Swann.

Jason and Veronica’s twenty-five year old daughter was the one who had been tweeting about how this was some kind of coverup, so after some arm-twisting, Sam had gotten both Dean and Cas to come help interview her. It wasn’t so much that he thought it needed three of them. That was kind of overkill, actually. But the last time he’d sent the two of them off on a milk run by themselves, well, they’d kind of done the opposite of getting over their shit.

Cindy Pike reminded Sam a bit of Claire. She’d obviously channeled her grief into rage, and she was smart enough to know she wasn’t getting the whole story. Oh, and she clearly had no use for authority.

“About time they brought in the big guns,” she’d said once they’d introduced themselves and offered their condolences. “Please tell me you know there’s no way this was some random mountain lion.”

“I had come to that conclusion,” Cas said. “However, I would like to hear why you believe this could not be the case. Your parents were hiking in a rather wild area, after all.”

“My parents weren’t fucking idiots, Agent Nicks,” she replied. “First of all, Iowa ain’t exactly known for its mountain lion attacks. Second of all, maybe a mountain lion or bear or whatever could’ve gotten the jump on one of them, but believe me, the other would’ve taken it out.”

“You sound pretty sure of that,” Dean said. 

Sam had to agree. Rather than adding anything himself, though, he scanned the room they were in. It was a pretty normal-looking living room at first glance. A close look, though, made some subtle things catch his eye.

The sun-catcher hanging in the window looked like just random Celtic knotwork, except for the runes worked into it. Still, that could just be random new-age stuff. The window sill, though, looked like it had been painted more recently than the rest of the trim. That could have just been rain damage. The combination, though, had him itching to look under the welcome mat by the door where Cindy had let them in. 

“May I use your bathroom?” he asked, only realizing from the twin glares he got that he’d interrupted Dean mid-sentence. “Sorry, had a lot of coffee this morning.”

Cindy rolled her eyes and jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Back out there, on your left.”

“So, as I was saying,” Dean said, an edge to his voice, “you want to elaborate on that?”

Sam didn’t get to hear the reply, because the half-bath was close enough that he had to go inside and close the door to be believable. Besides, he really had drank too much coffee this morning. He was just as glad to have gone into the little room, though, because while he was getting rid of all that excess coffee, he had time to look around, and he saw that this window’s sill also looked more freshly painted than the rest of the trim. It also had a little sun-catcher, though this one used Tibetan script for its little protection spell. 

Sam was pretty sure, now, that the Pikes were either in the life or at least aware of what was out there, and salted their windows on a regular basis. That would eat the paint away and require regular upkeep frequently enough to not want to repaint the entire windows every time. Once he’d finished and washed his hands, he took a short detour on the way back to the living room, toeing aside the throw rug just inside the door.

As he’d suspected, it concealed a devil’s trap. The really fancy Solomon’s Key style Bobby used to have on his ceiling, in fact. 

“... you people even look at the victims’ personal effects?” Cindy was ranting. “What the hell kind of FBI agents are you?”

Dean looked ready to burst a blood vessel and just barely holding himself in check. Cas was harder to read, but Sam was pretty sure that was quiet panic on his face. 

“The same kind your parents probably passed themselves off as when they needed to,” Sam said as he stepped back into the room. “To be fair, even if we had examined all of the victims’ personal effects, we wouldn’t have been looking at what kind of shells or bullets they had loaded in their guns or whether the water in their canteen was holy.”

Both Dean and Cas first stared slack-jawed at Sam, then turned back to Cindy.

Some of the defensiveness went out of her posture, and she whispered something under her breath that sounded like, “Thank fuck.”

“The Pikes were hunters,” Cas said slowly. “What alerted you to this fact?”

Sam gestured at the window. Dean looked furious again when he saw that he’d missed such obvious clues. Cas just pressed his lips into a thin line and brought his focus back to Cindy.

“So, you’re hunters,” she said. “I mean, I was hoping to trip somebody’s radar, but I’m not exactly plugged into whatever hunter social media is out there. Guessing your names aren’t really Nicks, McVie, and Finn, then.”

“I’m Dean Winchester,” Dean said. “That’s my brother, Sam. And this is Cas.”

“You’re…” Cindy sank back into her chair. “I’m not sure if I should be relieved or terrified.”

“Both is probably a good idea,” Sam admitted.

“Were your parents hunting something specific?” Cas asked.

“They weren’t sure what they were looking for,” Cindy said. She closed her eyes and swallowed before continuing. “It obviously wasn’t a werewolf, or a vamp, or a wendigo. Wasn’t really fitting with any of the lore.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem,” Dean said. “At first we thought we were coming into a town full of dumbasses who dealt their souls away ten years ago. Guessing that wouldn’t be your parents, though.”

“Hellhound?” Cindy looked at him sharply. “No. They’d never do anything that stupid.”

Sam caught Dean giving Cas a look that screamed, “See, dumbass?”

“You never know,” Cas responded, though he was facing Dean rather than Cindy. “Sometimes perfectly intelligent people, even hunters, will trade anything to protect the ones they love.”

“Anyway,” Sam cut in hurriedly, “there’s nothing to suggest anyone actually made any kind of deals. Unless you know anything?”

“No.” Cindy shook her head firmly. “I mean, if I’d had cancer when I was a kid or something, I could totally see them doing that, but that would still only take one soul, right?”

“That is true,” Cas said, still looking at Dean. “Any parent would do as much. However, it sounds like you are saying you did not have any sort of life-threatening illness to prompt such desperate action.”

Dean visibly clenched his jaw but said nothing. Cas finally turned to look at the young woman.

“Stuff’s been weird lately, though,” Cindy said. “Just last month, they hunted what turned out to be a couple of whispers.”

“Whispers? Don’t they only hunt during solar eclipses?” Sam asked.

“Did we even have a solar eclipse last month?” Dean asked.

“Yes, they do,” she replied. “And no, we didn’t. Like I said: weird.”

All three were silent for a moment.

“Are hellhounds really invisible?” Cindy asked in a small voice. 

“To humans, yes,” Cas said. “Though glass that has been passed through holy fire will render them visible.”

“Uh, any idea where I can find some of that?” Cindy asked.

“We can get you a pair,” Dean said. “But, you know, just in case they come here or something.”

“Why would they?” Cas asked. 

“Why would they attack anybody who didn’t have a deal coming due?” Dean countered. “Apparently this is just more of the same weird shit we’ve been seeing. Now we’ve got a hellhound killing whoever it wants, apparently. Do we even know if they can smell, like who you’re related to?”

“Historically, no,” Cas said. “However, as both you and Cynthia just said, things are currently very… weird.”

“Also, the Pikes weren’t the last people killed,” Sam said. “If this hellhound was going to go after anyone related to the people who’d been hunting it, well, I’m guessing we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Cindy swallowed. Yeah, she was clearly in the know but not actually in the life. Now she reminded Sam less of Claire and more of Mary, not to mention himself. 

“So,” she asked, “just, y’know, for general knowledge, how exactly do you kill a hellhound?”


	4. Chapter 4

Sam made a quick run to the dollar store and got two more pairs of reading glasses with the lowest possible magnification. Once they’d both been put through holy flame, he gave one set to Cindy Pike along with a bag of goofer dust to line the windows and doorways. The other set, he gave to Cas back at their motel room. Cas looked at them curiously before tucking them into the pocket where he kept his badge.

Not all the attacks had happened in the park, but most of them had. The ones in town had been within a couple blocks of the park, though, and all of the kills had been within a roughly circular-shaped area. So, the center of that circle seemed to Sam like the best place to start. Dean had agreed readily.

Cas had other ideas.

“While that may be the beast’s lair,” Cas said, “if it is out hunting, it could be anywhere within this area.”

“True,” Sam agreed. “I don’t think we should split up, though.”

Before Cas could reply, Dean cut in.

“Put on your damn glasses and get in the car,” Dean said. “We do this together or not at all.”

“I do not need…”

“Oh, you don’t need?” Dean retorted. “Do you even know whether or not you’ll be able to see it? Because if your grace is suddenly back to full power, that’s news to me.”

“Dude!” Sam said.

“No, my grace is not back to full power,” Cas said. “I was merely pointing out that I do not require special glasses to locate the Impala any more than you and Sam do.”

“Guys,” Sam said, “can you two maybe stow your crap till we handle this?”

That got him twin glares from the both of them, but they pushed past him to leave the motel room and head for the car. He shook his head and pulled the door shut behind him as he followed them.

The ride to the park was uncomfortably quiet. They parked the Impala in the campers’ lot closest to the coordinates that seemed to be the center of the hound’s hunting grounds.

“It will not be terribly efficient for us to cover this entire area remaining together,” Cas finally said.

“Yeah, I’ve thought about that,” Sam said before Dean could start ranting again. “I’m thinking we see if we can find its actual lair first, then fan out and use a circular search pattern.”

“Think there’s a few too many trees for that,” Dean said. “No way we can stay within visual range of each other.”

Sam shrugged. “Best idea I’ve got. Let’s try to find the lair first.”

When they reached the coordinates that marked the center point, there was nothing that looked like a lair any animal would use. No caves or dens, not even any really thick areas of brush. It was just an ordinary patch of woods that didn’t look like it had been disturbed recently by hikers, much less demonic dogs.

“Perhaps hellhounds do not feel the need for such shelter,” Cas said. “It is rather unusual for them to be on this plane except while collecting souls, after all.”

“I guess,” Sam said. “I dunno.”

“Even in hell, they like their nooks and crannies,” Dean said reluctantly. “Plus, they do other stuff sometimes. Remember how Crowley had Juliette guarding the First Blade?”

“Shit, I’d forgotten about that,” Sam admitted. “You think this is her? Or some other hound that some demon had doing a job like that? Seems like there should be some reason it’s staying within like a mile and a half of this spot.”

“I do not sense anything unusual about this location,” Cas said. “It is not a locus of any particular power, nor are there any portals to hell near here. And while I am not ‘back to full power,’ I am still aware of where such things are located.”

Dean looked like he’d bitten into a lemon. Sam decided not to deal with that. He needed both of them focused on the case.

“So,” Sam said, “search pattern?”

They all looked around the wooded area. If they were looking for a missing person, Sam would insist on his original idea. That was, however, what that sort of pattern was designed for, not hunting down invisible killing machines.

Dean turned and faced North.

“This way,” he said. “We fan out a little, yeah, but never let more than one tree get between us. I’ll take the center. Sam, you focus on what’s West of us. Cas, you’ve got East. We go a mile and a half that way, then work our way in a straight line to the Western boundary and back to the center. Then do the same to the South and East.”

“There will still be much area we cannot see,” Cas said, “however, I agree that is a prudent approach.”

Sam would normally have sent off a prayer of gratitude that they were cooperating, but he was not about to give Chuck any credit for that. He decided to direct it to the Furies instead. They might only look like Jess, Eileen, and Charlie, but it felt more right to thank them.

The only thing they found while heading North was a poorly broken down campsite. Taking the diagonal route to what was more or less the Westernmost point was similarly uneventful, as was the trip back to the center. There’d been one tense moment when a deer apparently got spooked and made a bunch of noise running from them, but the fact that it was running away was a pretty good clue it wasn’t their target.

Then they headed South.

About a half mile into that stretch, Sam heard something in the brush off to the West of him. He stopped and waved to Dean and Cas to stop as well. He hoped it wasn’t another damn deer.

It wasn’t.

Sam could barely see the outline of the hellhound in the glare of his flashlight before it charged him and flattened him to the ground. He slashed out with the demon knife, and the hound yelped when he caught its flank. It was barely a scratch, though, from what Sam could tell. Just enough to piss it off. It jumped back and snarled at him.

“Sammy!” Dean yelled as he ran towards them, angel blade in hand.

The hound’s ears perked up. Shit. Was this Crowley’s Juliette? Or did all the hellhounds know Dean’s voice? Between his old deal for Sam’s life and his time as a Knight of Hell, Sam supposed that was possible.

“Don’t even think about it,” Sam growled at it as he got his feet under him. He got into a crouch that would let him either charge the demonic dog if it went after his brother or get a good angle to try and stab the thing again if it came back at him.

Suddenly, Cas materialized to Sam’s right, angel blade drawn. Silently, he lunged at the hound, which turned at the last second and sank its teeth into Cas’ arm. Bright, bluish-white light flowed out of the punctures the beast’s teeth had made in the angel’s arm and the clothing covering it, and Cas grunted with pain.

Sam started towards the two of them, then pulled up short as Dean did the same, stepping into Sam’s path.

“Let go of him, you bitch!” Dean shouted as he grabbed the hellhound by the back of its neck with one hand, stabbing an angel blade up through its throat. Black blood spurted from the wound and onto Dean’s sleeve. With a grunt, Dean hauled the beast back from Cas, its jaw having gone slack and released its hold on Cas’ arm. He threw the animal down and pulled back the blade, stabbing the hound again once it had fallen to the ground with a sickening squelch.

“Cas, you okay?” Sam asked as he hurried to check on the angel.

“I’m fine.” Cas grimaced as he held his damaged arm with his good one, his eyes fixed on Dean.

Dean had pulled the angel blade free of the corpse and looked like he was about to stab it again. A chill ran down Sam’s spine, as memories of Dean hunting with the Mark of Cain flitted through his mind. But then, Dean seemed to realize the animal was dead, and his arm fell to his side, black blood dripping from his sleeve and the angel blade onto the ground.

A faint light drew Sam’s attention back to Cas. At first, he thought it was more grace leaking from the angel’s wound. Then he realized Cas was healing himself, and Sam felt the tension go out of himself as well.

For a moment, the three of them looked at each other, then down at the hellhound, still barely visible even with the glasses.

“Do we really got to deal with burning this thing?” Dean asked. “I mean, it is invisible.”

 

“Actually,” Cas said, “the sign at the entrance to the park indicated a moderately high forest fire risk at this time. I believe it would be both preferable and sufficient to bury it instead.”

“Awesome,” Dean said with a frown. “Which one of you is going back to the car for the shovels?

Sam huffed out a laugh and shook his head.


	5. Chapter 5

The ride back to the bunker was much less uncomfortable than any of the time they’d spent together so far. Dean had the music playing, but not blaring so loud it would be impossible to talk if they wanted to. Cas was still pretty quiet in the back seat, but he looked thoughtful rather than sullen. Sam decided this hunt had, in fact, been exactly what they needed, even if they hadn’t learned any more about what was going on with the multiverse. Well, other than the fact that other monsters were being affected by the thinning of the veils, which was not particularly good news.

As they got closer to Lebanon, Sam found himself sighing. They might be doing better as a team, but they were still exactly nowhere on what to do about the veils thinning and the multiverse collapsing or whatever it was doing. Powering up skinwalkers and sending hellhounds on killing sprees when not creating zombie towns, apparently.

“Back to the books,” he said. 

“You really think there’s gonna be anything in there you haven’t found already?” Dean asked.

“There are still books Cas and I haven’t read,” Sam pointed out. “Granted, we’ve already hit the ones that looked the most likely, but we’ve found stuff in places we didn’t expect before.”

Dean hummed reluctant agreement. Sam just hoped he’d actually help out now. Dean liked to say that he wasn’t the smart one, but half the time, he was the one who could make the connections between what looked like unrelated pieces of lore. 

“Cas,” Sam said after a minute, “I know the priority is dealing with the veils. But I am keeping an eye out for anything that might help with your deal, too. So’s Rowena, for that matter, but I think you already knew that.”

“I appreciate that,” Cas said, a fond smile tugging at his lips. “Just, it does no good to save me if the multiverse unravels, so yes, that is the priority. So, for that matter, is both of your safety.”

“Cas,” Dean started, then cut himself off.

Sam knew that look on his brother’s face. He’d seen it after the lake house and every day after that right up until they finally got Cas back. He wondered if Cas had any idea how destroyed Dean had been the last time he’d died. Wondered if it would make any difference to tell him or would just make things worse.

They rode on in silence for the last few miles until they pulled into the bunker’s garage. It was neither the companionable quiet they’d had for the last several hours nor the extremely tense awkwardness that had marked the last week. The air felt charged, though, and Sam wondered whether the two of them were going to explode into yet another fight or maybe finally get their shit together. Either way, he resolved to make himself scarce once they got home.

As they pulled their bags out of the Impala and got ready to head inside, Dean turned to face Cas. They were, unfortunately, between Sam and the stairs leading downstairs.

“Yeah, Cas, so, you made a deal,” Dean started again, as if it had been only seconds instead of almost fifteen minutes since the last time he’d spoken. “You made a stupid deal, but I get it. And me and Sammy, and apparently Rowena, we’re gonna help you break it. Okay?”

They exchanged one of those long looks that made Sam feel like he should leave the room. Which he’d gladly do, if they’d just move so he could go hide in his bedroom or something.

Finally, Cas nodded and they all headed inside. Sam made a beeline for his room and then spent more time unpacking than was strictly necessary. He doubted they were going to actually have a full-on heart to heart or anything. Dean was probably going to be recovering from that little speech for days. But a brother could hope. After all, that’s what he’d been doing for about a decade now, anyway.


End file.
